


Special FX

by querxes



Series: Newsies Writing Challenge [2]
Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blood and Injury, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, October Writing Challenge 2020, Prosthetic Makeup, That aren't technically real but I will still tag them as a precaution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:27:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26806591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/querxes/pseuds/querxes
Summary: “Hey, baby,” a muffled voice called from down the hall.“Hey yourself,” Davey rubbed his eyes as he made his way down the hallway, shrugging off his sweater and crossing to the bathroom. He stopped in the doorway and folded up his sweater. “The money for dinner’s on the table, if we wanna order out—Jesus Christ!”Race jumped, eyes widening as he spun around to face Davey. “I swear, the blood is fake!”Race accidentally scares Davey with his makeup skills.
Relationships: Racetrack Higgins/David Jacobs
Series: Newsies Writing Challenge [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1951621
Comments: 6
Kudos: 36





	Special FX

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the prompts of:  
> 10\. “I swear, the blood is fake!”  
> 24\. “No, stop looking at me like that—”
> 
> Mind the tags!

“Hey, baby,” a muffled voice called from down the hall.

“Hey yourself,” Davey rubbed his eyes as he made his way down the hallway, shrugging off his sweater and crossing to the bathroom. He stopped in the doorway and folded up his sweater. “The money for dinner’s on the table, if we wanna order out— _ Jesus Christ!”  _

Race jumped, eyes widening as he spun around to face Davey. “I swear, the blood is fake!”

“Uh—” Davey stuttered. He gaped at the giant gash across Race’s throat, then at the long, angry ones slashing down his forearms. He winced at the depth of the wounds. “Are the  _ wounds  _ fake?!”

Race snorted. “Who puts fake blood on real wounds?!”

“I’m sorry, but I truly wouldn’t put it past you. What the hell are you doing?”   


“I’m practicing for my Halloween costume!” He gestured to the makeup and prosthetics scattered across the bathroom counter, then madly pointed at the propped-up phone playing a tutorial. “I can’t just show up on _Halloween_ looking like I don’t know what I’m doing!”

“What the hell are you going as, target practice for Gomez Addams?!”

“I thought it would be impressive to be myself, but—y’know—murdered. Dead.  _ Deceased, _ if you will.”

Now, it was Davey’s turn to snort. “Alright.”

“Hey, don’t judge! I saw all these FX videos where they put on that prosthetic makeup and I wanted to try it!”

“You know I’m the last person to judge you— _ too harshly,”  _ Davey clarified, catching Race’s sarcastic eye-roll. “But how long are you planning on keeping that on? I was gonna have you pick up the food, but you are  _ not  _ going out like that.”

“I can still go pick it up!” Davey glared at Race, who raised his eyebrows and his hands defensively in return. “No, stop looking at me like that—”

“You are  _ not  _ picking up the food looking like a Slasher victim.” 

Race squawked indignantly. “Why ya gotta be so cutthroat?” Suddenly, he perked up. “Does that mean you think it’s good?” 

Davey rolled his eyes. “Well, if you mean good enough to scare me witless, imagining you bleeding out in the bathroom while I press my hand against the wound on your throat, waiting for the ambulance I called to arrive, then yeah. It’s good.”

Race gasped, smiling wildly. “D’ya think I could scare Jack with this?!” 

“Of course you could. But are we still getting Chinese? I’m hungry. You can order it on the phone and I’ll pick it up.”

“Sure, but we’re not getting Beef Lo Mein this time. It’s so gross.”

“Well, I’m willing to make that sacrifice if you call right now.”

Race scrambled to pick up his phone, hurriedly typing in the name of the restaurant into his search engine. 

Davey groaned, “God, the sacrifices I make living with you—”

_ “—Yes,  _ I’d like to make an order, please.” Race flipped him off behind his back, and Davey snorted. His boyfriend with a complete dork.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Please let me know what you think in the comments!
> 
> If you would like to request a prompt, please go to my tumblr blog @thetruthabouttheboy and send an ask with the prompt(s) of your choosing from under the pinned post!


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